


Far Away Long Ago

by MLEther



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Regina Mills - Fandom, SwanQueen - Fandom, Swen, swan queen - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Swan Queen - Freeform, Swen - Freeform, regina mills and emma swan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2385938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLEther/pseuds/MLEther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Swan Queen EF/AU rewrite of Anastasia. Orphaned Emma doesn't remember that she spent the first ten years of her life as a princess in the White Kingdom. Rumpelstiltskin uses a curse that incites revolution, dismantling the monarchy and splitting up the White family. 18 years later, con artist Regina and her companion Sydney convince Anna (Emma) she's the long lost princess. Cue Adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Away Long Ago

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, friends! As you may have gathered from the summary, this is a Swan-Queen-Anastasia rewrite (the cartoon version, of course). First and foremost, I must say that this is definitely a mixture of OUAT and Anastasia with some of my own things flung in there (because I am, after all, writing it and I don’t want it to be too predictable if you’ve seen Anastasia).  
> I currently live in a space that lacks water or power, so by default: no Internet. I am going to try to make the chapters as long as possible to make up for infrequent updates- and I promise you it will be worth it.  
> As always, your reviews are extremely helpful and encouraging. Feel free to pass all comments, questions, criticisms, and concerns my way. You can also hit me up on tumblr at mlether1.  
> Enjoy!

 

“Far away, long ago- we lived in a world of enchantment. Grand castles elegantly carved, draped with delicate fabrics, encrusted with the finest of precious stones, gilded with long-winding threads of gold, silver, and glass. It was a different time that seems so foreign to me now,” stretching her fingers out, she moaned as she felt the arthritis bite at her knuckles- she continued to write, “In that time, my husband and I were the rulers of the Imperial White Kingdom. And our daughter, Emma, was the crown jewel,” she paused over the journal as a couple tears slipped from her eyes, falling onto the pages.

“For ten years we lived together in a blissful world, until _he_ came…” Her heavy eyes glanced to the candle to her side, as she watched the flame- the past flickered before her eyes, repeating the dreaded day that haunted every moment of her waking life:

_The ballroom in the White palace was draped with folds of creamy white and rich blue banners. A long table was pushed to the side, full of all the lands’ delicacies as flowers fell in a beautiful cadence off every ledge and balcony. The nobility swayed and danced around the room in a whirl of lush fabrics as they celebrated the tenth birthday of their beloved princess, Emma._

_At the head of the ballroom sat Queen Snow on her large thrown. Gilded with silver, along with diamonds and pearls that encrusted nearly every inch of the surface all glittering from the brilliant light sweeping in from the large windows. She chuckled to herself as she watched her husband and daughter dance together._

_Her husband, Prince Charming, scooped his daughter off her feet- twirling her in the air where she frantically waved to her mother who smiled and returned her wave. Back on her feet, Emma pushed her golden hair from her eyes and ran to her mother._

_“Did you see me?” she squealed as she threw her arms around the queen._

_“Of course!” replied Snow planting a kiss on her daughter’s cheek and smoothing out the small creases in her daughter’s baby blue dress._

_“Done already?” came the voice of Prince Charming as he ascended the stairs to stand by his family. Emma giggled and shook her head back and forth._

_“Emma, darling, we have a gift for you,” said Snow making her daughter’s ears prick up. Snow reached into the folds of her dress and emerged with a tiny silver case._

_Emma snatched it vigorously and opened it with a small gasp, her eyes growing wide._

_“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. Snow smiled and removed the necklace from the case and placed it around her daughter’s neck._

_“It’s a swan,” she smiled._

_“My favorite!” smiled Emma as she touched the tiny silver swan now draped around her neck._

_“To remind you of the love your mother and I have for you,” smiled Charming as he draped an arm around his daughter whose eyes remained fixed on her new necklace._

_“Thank you, it matches my bracelet!” the little girl breathed as she held up her wrist to gaze at the tiny circle of silver surrounding it. She embraced her father and her mother before turning on her heel- peeling down the stairs and across the room to a group of her friends where she started showing off her new present._

_Her parents watched her afar with soft smiles. “I don’t think I ever see her without that bracelet on,” mused the prince, “Now I suppose we’ll have to add the swan necklace to the inventory,” he smiled, but when he heard no response he looked down at his wife and watched her face fade from a smile as worried creases pushed through her face._

_“Hey,” he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder, “we weren’t going to think about that today,” Snow placed her hand over his and brought it to her lips, giving his knuckles a small kiss._

_“I know,” she sighed, “I know,” her eyes scanned around the jubilant room, “the people are hungry, Charming- every day they grow more and more restless and I just don’t know what to do,” her breath hitched as her eyes brimmed with tears._

_“We’ll figure it out,” he said soothingly stroking her hand with his thumb, “we always do. We just need to take it one day at a time, and today is our daughter’s birthday, so let’s rejoice that we’re all here celebrating this happy occasion,” he smiled down at her. Snow took his hand and gave it a couple more brief kisses before rising and descending the staircase._

_Emma ran to her arms where they embraced and began to sway to the music together. She held the tiny hands of her daughter, allowing the soft squeezes to remove her troubled thoughts. Her face stretched into a brilliant smile as she gazed into the wild green eyes of her daughter that flashed with such love and blissful ignorance that she felt all her worries melt… until a dark cloud descended on the ballroom and all went silent._

_A darkness as black as pitch seeped into the ballroom- dousing the lights, fading the banners, and swirling over the flowers causing them to wilt. The guests shuddered as a chill prickled about the hairs on their skin, slowly crawling up their bodies and into their throats. A thick, heavy feeling spread across the room- soaking each individual in a coat of fear as memories of laughter, music, and happiness faded from thought as if there were never such things in the world._

_Just as the silence grew unbearable, a loud bang echoed painfully through the ballroom as the main doors thrust open. A single, solitary figure surrounded by a deep midnight mist stood in its wake. The short gasps from the onlookers were whipped from their mouths as the sharp footsteps of the intruder began to echo across the ballroom._

_Snow clutched her daughter’s shoulders, pushing her behind her as the figure swiftly approached. She felt Charming approach close at her side as the last group of nobles parted to reveal a menacing, scaly man- draped in folds of black and deep green._

_He stopped a couple feet from Snow and looked her up and down, his reptilian eyes resting for a moment on the young blonde at the queen’s side as he sneered- moving to hold Snow’s gaze._

_“Apologies,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain._

_“You’re not welcome here,” breathed Snow through clenched teeth._

_“But dearie, I used to live here… or do you not remember?”_

_“We remember,” said Charming stepping forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword, “all too well,” Snow pressed her hand over her husband’s arm._

_“Leave us,” she hissed at the dark intruder._

_“If my memory serves me correctly,” began the man with a snide giggle, “today is a special, special day,” his gaze slowly rested on the little girl partially hidden behind her mother, “And I am here to offer a gift.”_

_“We want nothing from you,” said Snow, her voice slightly trembling as she pushed Emma farther behind her._

_“But you shall have it,” chimed the man with a clap of his hands, his beady eyes glistening with the promise of misery, “my gift to you…” he began as his eyes slid around the room, “is a curse,” the room collectively gasped at these words, Charming stepped forward- drawing his sword, but the man didn’t flinch. He pressed closer, holding a long finger out- pointing it at Snow._

_“Mark my words,” he said as his voice echoed around the ballroom, “Within a fortnight, everything you love will be torn from you,” With one last glance down at the little girl behind Snow, he brought his eyes up to pierce the queen’s, “I shall destroy your happiness… if it is the last thing I do,” he hissed._

_Charming lunged forward with his sword, but just as the blade fell- the dark intruder vanished in a whirl of deep black smoke._

A single tear fell from her eyes as she watched the memory flicker around the flame of her candle. With a heavy sigh, she continued to write.

“With insidious words accompanied by acts of complete cruelty, Rumpelstiltskin poisoned the minds of the kingdom. His venom consisted of hatred, bitterness, and rage as it coursed through the veins of each citizen, pumping them full of an all-consuming hatred that spread throughout the kingdom like noxious gas. Days after his intrusion at Emma’s tenth birthday, an orange glow broke over the horizon- accompanied by the thunderous noise of anger. The gnashing of outraged voices cut through the cold night air, the clanging of swords and pitchforks echoed up from the gates to the castle walls as fires broke out across the castle grounds. Rumpelstiltskin’s actions breathed life into an already growing flame of up rise. He had promised the citizens of her kingdom their pound of flesh, and they were coming to collect.”

_Snow sprinted down the hallway towards her daughter’s bedroom. Servants whipped by trying to barricade all the doors they possibly could. The noise of the angry mob echoed through the hallway, drumming into Snow’s head as she ran. Reaching her daughter’s bedroom, she found Emma hiding under her bed. Quickly she grabbed her by the hand and together they bolted out of the room and down the hallway where they met Charming._

_“They’ve entered both the West and South wings, if we’re going to make it out of here we have to run through the Northern gate where a carriage should hopefully be waiting for us,” said Charming, trying to breathe deeply and not show the horror he felt as he looked down at his daughter’s frightened eyes._

_Together the family took off for the Northern gate. A loud creak and bang sounded behind them, followed by what seemed like hundreds of footsteps._

_“They’ve broken through! Run your highnesses! Run!” screamed a servant behind them. Without glancing backwards, the family ran as quickly as they could, out the castle doors and into the courtyard._

_Snow’s eyes widened in horror as she looked around and saw the entire castle grounds engulfed with hot, thick flames- the smoke wheezing its way to her throat. She suppressed her tears and pushed forward, the carriage nearly in sight. The flames grew closer, as well as the sound of the mob- they were only a few feet from them now. Charming ran ahead and pulled the carriage door open, hollering at the driver to start moving. He reached his hand out for Snow and pulled hard, the horses already at a fast trot, steadily beginning to canter._

_Gripping Emma’s hand as tightly as she could, Snow was pulled into the carriage, but just as her feet entered through the door, Emma’s hand slipped from her._

_“Emma!” she cried as she turned around._

_“Mommy!” the young girl cried as she ran as quickly as she could, her fingers just out of reach of her mother’s._

_“Stop the carriage! STOP! PLEASE STOP! EMMA!” screamed Snow, but the driver couldn’t hear her over the roar of the mob. Her eyes tore back to her daughter who ran frantically. She looked in horror as the mob began to overtake them, and Emma was lost from her sight._

_“EMMA!” she tried to scream, but her voice was hoarse from the smoke and terror. Her eyes searched for her daughter as the carriage sped forward, but all she saw were flames and rage-filled faces before everything went dark._

“I woke up three days later in the kingdom of King Midas,” wrote Snow with a quivering hand, “it’s been eighteen years since that night,” tears rolled from her cheeks and fell upon the pages, “it’s been eighteen years since I’ve seen my precious daughter, it’s been eighteen years since I’ve held her in my arms, eighteen years since I’ve heard her laugh or call my name. Emma is lost to us… forever,” she whispered the last word aloud and shut the book. Slowly bending forward, she rested her head atop the large volume and felt her grief take her.

…………….

As the sun slid above the trees of the Enchanted Forest, the normally quiet mornings were suddenly assaulted by excited voices and flapping tongues.

“Have you heard the news?”

“Yes, I still can’t believe it myself!”

“An absolute waste of time, if you ask me.”

“The princess is alive!”

“Hell, for that much money- _I’ll_ pretend to be the princess.”

“So, the rumors are true? She lives?”

“Who knows, but the Whites are offering a reward to anyone who can find their daughter.”

“Princess Emma, I thought she was dead.”

“Apparently not.”

“Con artists are going to have a field day…”

……………….

“ _Next_ ,” groaned the brunette as she rubbed her temples in frustration. She sat behind a splintered wooden desk in a dark, dank tavern- facing a small stage. Before her on the table were dozens of papers of young women auditioning to play the role of, “Princess Emma.”

The sound of clopping feet fell on the stage and the brunette held her head up, only to place it back down on the table. She raised her head and looked to her partner-in-crime to her left.

“Really, Sydney? A dwarf in a blonde wig?” The man simply answered with a shrug.

The brunette rolled her eyes, picked the scattered papers off the desk, shoved them into the pocket of her long, burgundy coat and waltzed out of the tavern- Sydney close on her heels.

“Did I do something wrong?” he questioned, looking pleadingly at the back of the brunette’s head as she walked down the street, “Please, Regina…” the brunette stopped and whipped her head around.

“Twenty-nine women, Sydney,” she hissed, “Twenty-nine women who don’t even _closely_ resemble what the princess could look like now,”

“I thought some were quite suff-“

“A dwarf in a wig, Sydney. A dwarf in a wig,” interjected the brunette folding her arms.

“Right, well, I’ll try harder…”

“You’d better,” said the brunette shooting her companion another dark look before her eyes drifted to the forest, “You’ve known me for a long time, Sydney, you know what this means to me,” she murmured.

“Yes, your highness,” said Sydney solemnly.

“Don’t call me that,” whispered Regina, her eyes searching around for eavesdroppers, “That hasn’t been my title since…”

“Since the uprising, yes- I remember,” nodded Sydney, “The money we obtain conning the Queen would be more than enough to put you back on your feet, I’m sure of it.”

“As am I,” sighed Regina, “But this is also personal. Snow White’s poor leadership and bad taste in acquaintances caused everyone else to lose everything they had. We’re out in the forests living like outlaws, living off scraps while she’s off in some other castle living in the lap of luxury- offering absurd amounts of gold for mere whispers of her lost brat,” Regina bit the side of her cheek as she recalled the uprising before whispering, “Snow White’s taken everything from me… I wont stop until I have my revenge.”

“Even if it means taking her money and bringing her joy by reuniting her with her supposed daughter?” asked Sydney raising an eyebrow.

“If that’s what it takes, then so be it,” grumbled the brunette, “Besides, she will be so infatuated with her reunion it will give me time to build a following of other… discarded nobility… and be able to form a strong army to finish off what Rumpelstiltskin started.”

Sydney shuddered at the mention of the Dark One’s name, he admired Regina’s cut-throat determination. After her parents had been slaughtered in the uprising, Sydney- who had acted as her mother’s personal advisor- found the young girl huddled in the stables and took her off to live in the ruins of the Imperial White Palace. After that, he became completely devoted to the young girl- willing to walk through fire for the beautiful young woman who had lost everything in one fatal night. He watched as Regina turned from him and began to walk back to the ruined Imperial Palace, though destitute and dressed in rags- she still maintained an aura of royalty. He smiled to himself and did as he had always done- he shambled after her.

………..

“Yeah, yeah well you know what? Screw you too, Louisa!” shouted a scruffy young blonde as she stumbled out the back door of a kitchen, “Here!” she shouted as she pulled a spatula out of her torn coat, “I don’t even want it!” The blonde puffed up her chest and through her arms out in challenge before quickly stumbling back, her green eyes grew wide as a giant mammoth of a woman came hurtling out of the kitchen.

It would be more accurate to classify this woman as more simian than actual human. Her large, hairy arms hung to her sides, her bottom jaw jutted out with highlights of a few prickly dark hairs sticking jaggedly out from a mole on her chin. She towered over the scrawny blonde and huffed great heaps of steam from her nostrils as she glowered down at the young girl.

Emma looked up at the minotaurian mammal in awe before a wry smile cracked across her face. The large woman let out a huff of laughter and helped the blonde off the ground using only a couple of fingers.

“It’s been good havin’ ya ‘round, kid,” huffed the large woman giving Emma a short jab across the shoulder making the blonde wince slightly.

“Thanks, Louisa,” returned Emma giving the woman’s moon-sized hands a couple pats. Tears began to form in her eyes, causing the large woman to hold up a giant hand.

“Nah, none of them tears, darlin’. I’ve gone’n told ya thousand time round to have none of that. Eight ‘n ten years been too long to be hangin’ round the orphanage. Now get out there and find ya fambly,” gruffed the woman giving Emma a large slap on her behind to get her moving.

The blonde nodded and slung her bag over her shoulder and began to walk down the dirt path into the forest.

“Gotchya necklace?” called the mammoth from behind her. The blonde turned around and patted just below her neck and smiled.

“Ta hell wit ya!” yelled the woman before hocking a large wad of spit. Emma smirked as the woman gave her one last wink before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Shouldering her bag, Emma looked out to the long, winding dirt path ahead of her. Her fingers slid under her tunic and found the comforting form of the charm on her necklace. Pulling it out, she thumbed it as she began to walk. The tiny, silver swan was all she had from her past. As she strode along at a steady pace, memories swarmed into her mind.

_The sound of screaming echoed around her ears, she wanted to know who was the source and why they were screaming, but she was too petrified to open her eyes. She clung to the mud she was sprawled on, her fingers digging into the earth creating muddy serpents about her small hands. The screaming got louder, and louder, progressing in an unintelligible cadence as it surrounded her. She felt the hot flames of fire lick about her heels, but remained paralyzed._

_A pair of large, seemingly masculine hands wrapped around her body- sweeping her into the air. The smell of brimstone wafted into her nostrils, intoxicating her brain as she felt herself lose consciousness._

_She awoke in a dimly lit kitchen. She sat upright, but felt so dizzy she fell backwards and briefly surrendered._

_“Who are ya?” came a gruffy voice from somewhere in the room. Emma looked over to see a large woman sitting on a small stool in a dark corner of the room. Her eyes widened and she flew off the table towards the door as a larger-than-life woman rose from her chair in the corner and towered over the young blonde as an Ogre stands above an ant. A large hand grabbed the young girl by her collar and pulled her back, placing her on the table once again._

_“Now, darlin’ I ain’t gonna hurt ya none,” came the gruffy voice placing her stool by the table so she could look Emma square in the eyes, “Now tell me who ya belong to so’s I can get ya home ‘n safe. This is no time to be runnin’ about.”_

_The young girl studied the large woman’s face. Her nose was at least three times as large as a normal nose and about as crooked as a politician. Deep caverns of aged skin crossed the woman’s face creating a mountain range of rough history and pools of trouble. Her entire façade had an air of resistance, like she had spent her whole life living as a lone rock close to shore, constantly being pounded against and carved by the harsh blows of the ocean. But the mammoth-like woman’s eyes, though small, were as clear and grey as a misty morning fog coating the valley. Within them, the blonde saw strength, comfort, and trust. Emma opened her mouth to respond, but found nothing come out. She knew she had a name, but what was it? She couldn’t understand why she didn’t know what her name was._

_“I… I don’t know,” replied Emma quietly. The large woman looked her up and down skeptically._

_“Ya covered ‘n mud, but beneath that muck I can tell ya got some fancy nightgown on. Are you a’runnin’ away from somethin’?” Once again, Emma sat quietly trying to remember just exactly what she had been doing._

_“I… I really don’t know,” she said pressing her hand to her head._

_“What’s this here?” said the large woman holding Emma’s necklace up with a stirring spoon._

_“That’s mine!” cried the young girl as she grabbed for the tiny swan and clutched it to her chest. One of her hands also flew to her wrist, but found it empty. She didn’t know why she felt like that was unusual, but a part of her told her that something was usually hanging around her wrist as well._

_“Aaah… so ya know’s that shiny bit’s yours then?” said the woman eyeing the young girl suspiciously._

_“I… yes, actually,” replied Emma knitting her small brows together. She couldn’t recall her name or where she came from, but for some reason she knew the necklace belonged to her, and as she held it in her hands all of the confusion since she had awoken seemed to dissipate._

_“Aight,” huffed the large woman heaving a large sigh and standing to her feet causing the small kitchen to rumble with each footstep, “Ya can stay here till ya figure things out, but I don’t want no trouble, I wont be havin’ any tears, and ya will need to work for ya keep, heard?”_

_The young girl nodded her head slowly, her hands grasping the tiny swan necklace tightly._

_“So, Miss, what should we be a’callin’ ya?”_

_The young girl remained still, silently spinning the swan around in her fingers._

_“How about Anna?” she whispered timidly._

_“Tis a good, sturdy name with no nonsense. That’ll do,” nodded the mammoth woman, “Anna Swan… cause of ya necklace there.”_

_The little girl nodded her approval: Anna Swan._

_“Now then, Anna Swan, I’m Louisa. Let’s be getting’ ya some clean clothes and straight to work, heard?”_

Emma smiled as she walked along the path remembering how she met Louisa. From her earliest memory, she knew her necklace was important- and now it was time for her to go out in search of her family and, hopefully, make a life for herself.

As she walked through the forest, she saw a large town come into view. The capital city of the former-White Kingdom was a giant town with thousands of winding, twisting streets peppered with gingerbread-looking houses of different shapes and colors. On top of the hill was a large, rolling white castle.

Louisa used to stay up with her telling stories about what the castle used to be like when the White family still lived there before the revolution. Though Louisa didn’t have a very descriptive vocabulary, Emma would fill in the details herself. Between Louisa’s practical stories of kitchen maintenance, social structures, and bylaws- Emma would envision glittering hallways of white marble, littered with crushed rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. Crystal windows stretching towards the heavens were draped with soft gossamer flapping in the summer breeze while the royal family held large, elegant parties full of every kind of food imaginable.

She licked her lips at the thought as she looked up the castle and felt her heart sink slightly. Half the castle was charred a deep black, the windows smashed and boarded, cracks formed around each spire – the marble desperately clinging to the fraying seems of departed elegance. She knew the inside must be worse, but she _had_ to see. Some unseen force seemed to be pulling her that direction, like the great old Imperial castle had cast its net and slowly drew her in.

But she had business to do. Heaving a sigh, she walked into the village looking for a way to get to the Midas Kingdom. A few months ago, she stumbled across a book of sigils from the Seven Kingdoms and noticed that a family in the Midas Kingdom had a swan as their family sigil. It was the first, real lead she had concerning her past and knew she had to pursue it.

“Excuse me, sir,” she stopped an old man wearing a large leather apron, a little half-carved wooden puppet in his arms, “I was wondering if you know where I can get travel papers to go to the Midas Kingdom.”

“Travel papers?” said the old man, his eyebrows raising to his hairline, “It’s not safe to walk around without any papers, my dear. Not since the revolution,” a hint of sadness coated his words.

“I know, but I’m an orphan and have been living just outside town and I…” the old man held up his free hand to silence her.

“I understand, young lady,” he looked around and dropped his voice to a whisper, “What you need to do is see Regina,”

“Regina?”

“Shhhh shhh,” he pressed a finger to his lips, “ever since the revolution, the new leadership has been very, very strict about controlling the borders- to ensure that other royals don’t leave until they’ve been put on trial,” he rolled his eyes, “I don’t know you, but you have a good face and I’m going to help you.”

“Thank you,” replied Emma, a soft smile crossing her features.

“Now, you need to see Regina- about your height, tan skin, brown hair and eyes. She walks around with a tall man named, Sydney. They live up in the abandoned palace. She can help you get to where you need to go.”

Emma listened closely and her heart raced when she heard she’d go to the palace, it was the once place she had always longed to see- it almost seemed like fate.

“Thank you for your help,” she replied shaking his hand warmly.

“No problem. I used to deliver toys to that orphanage in the forest, I know people there don’t deal much with the outside, Louisa’s doing no doubt…” he murmured making Emma laugh, “How is she by the way?”

“As large and loud and ill tempered as ever,” she replied with a smile. A twinkle appeared in the old man’s eyes as he nodded his head.

“Like I said, if you’ve grown up there you wont know much about how things are around here. Keep safe, go unnoticed, and stay out of trouble… especially without papers.”

Hesitantly Emma nodded, she shifted her eyes around and slid her hands in her pockets- feeling suddenly nervous about being outside of the orphanage that had defined so much of her life. All of a sudden, Louisa’s attitude and behaviors seemed to make complete sense.

“Now go see Regina, she’ll help you,” he whispered as he patted her hand, “Now I’m sorry, someone may be watching so I must not be so pleasant.”

“Oh… okay,” said Emma a bit confused.

The old man leapt back from her and raised his hand in a threatening manner.

“Get back from me, I have nothing you want! Go somewhere else, you filthy begger!” he proclaimed, his voice harsh but his eyes shining towards her with hope and kindness.

Emma quickly picked up her bag and ran towards an alleyway. She winded around a few streets taking in the overall grey nature of the atmosphere. The colors of the houses seemed less brilliant, the cobblestones chipped with some missing, people walked around with a hard coldness as stoic and forlorn as the disintegrating architecture. It wasn’t anything like the bustling, vibrant town she had heard and read about. She rounded a corner and saw a tall, twisty path leading up to the palace.

…………

Her pace quickened as she scaled the last of the large hills that lead to the palace. The promise of discovering untold secrets moving her sore legs quicker as she reached the grand entrance. She stopped to take in the view.

Two large doors, soaring at least fifty feet upwards towered over her. Each door was intricately carved with relief sculptures detailing the past events of the White Kingdom. Reaching out a curious hand, she softly moved her fingers over the chipped figures of soldiers fighting valiantly against ogres and dragons. She circled her index finger around the figure of a shining female knight roaring into a spray of enemy shoulders, sword drawn, light pouring from the blade as she held it firmly before her to strike her terror and fury into her foes.

As she reached the lower registers, the carvings turned physically softer as scenes of treaties being signed and large parties began to take up the space. She got on her knees, reading the scene with her gentle fingers over the soft stone until she ran into a rough patch. She stood back and noticed that the entire bottom register of the door had been hammered off. She frowned and figured that must have been where the last members of the White family had engraved their tale.

She pressed her hands to the large doors, but it wouldn’t budge. Walking around the outside, she climbed through large thickets of overgrown grass, thistles, and vines larger than the mast of a great ship. She found a small window where the boards looked slightly rotted. Gripping the board with both hands, she yanked back and it, surprisingly, came off easily causing her to fall on her back. She stumbled to her feet, dusted herself off, and tightened her bag across her shoulders as she ripped the other two boards off and scrambled through the window.

The musty smell of history wafted through the air, escaping through the newly opened window as the air from the outside breathed new life into the forsaken building. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she felt her jaw drop.

She stood in an incomprehensibly spatial hallway. Massive windows framed by sturdy, white columns lined one side of the hall, while the other held colossal tapestries that seemed to soar down the hallway breaking through time and history. Little cracks of light squeezed through the boarded windows, slightly illuminating the space in a manner reminiscent of a tomb. The floor was covered in small marble titles, as chipped and cracked as Louisa’s teeth.

Slowly, Emma entered the room taking in everything around her. The dust flew into her lungs and back out only to be transformed into tiny sparks in the soft morning light. Her mind painted over the ruins as she envisioned the royals from the oldest families of the kingdoms strolling through the corridor, admiring the finely detailed tapestries. Emma squinted at the tapestries, but couldn’t make out what any of them had been. Years of fire, smoke, and dust coated over the threads in heavy, menacing folds.

Her eyes were suddenly drawn to a pair of large, white doors at the end of the hallway. As she approached, she saw the brilliant white family crest carved into each door, but she frowned as she saw the delicate carving of the crest slashed through with a pitchfork. Upon further inspection, her heart leapt as she saw small spherical indents lining the door and the door handle. She had heard that most of the doors in the White Palace had been lined with large, colorful pearls- it looks like the rumors had been true, but pillagers and thieves had done away with them just after the revolution, all those years ago.

She looked down for a door handle and noticed it was missing, _it was probably made of silver_ , she thought as she shook her head, thinking of the thieves that had so greedily taken anything that glittered. Pressing her hand to the door, she pushed it open and was met with a whirl of age-old dust. She coughed harshly as she clasped her chest seeking for air. As the dust settled she found her jaw scraping across the floor. If the hallway had been impressive, it was nothing compared to the immense ballroom she now stood in.

The extensive room was absolutely breathtaking. The voluminous ceiling seemed to knock on the door of the heavens while the rest of the mountainous space stretched out to touch each cardinal direction. The nave consisted of one, continuous barrel vault that stretched clear across the ceiling, ending in a large apse painted skillfully with images of the glittering swirls of the night sky surrounded by tall, swooping chevettes painted with similar scenes. The ambulatory consisted of long colonnades spanning the entire room, reaching up to cling to softly carved ribbed vaults highlighting the magnanimity of the palatial room. Streaks of light streamed into the space causing some of the vaults to glitter ethereally as some of the out-of-reach gems remained encrusted in its bones.

Giant slabs of white marble lined the floor in bold lines, cut off only by tiny swirls of patterns echoing outwards from the center of the room. Emma’s eyes followed the swirling patterns as she slowly walked into the ballroom, each step carefully placed as if one foot out of place could suddenly disrupt the reverent timelessness of the room. Her eyes flicked upwards where along the left side of the ballroom was a line of portraits of strong jawed royals clad in brilliant armor, rich furs, and airy silk.

She studied their faces as they gazed down to her from on high. Their looks echoed a kind of sweet longing, as if they were waiting to press out of their canvassed tomb. Looking up to her right, was a matching row of paintings consisting of lavish families standing proudly with one another, but each held the same look of desire to swoop down and relive a time now lost.

Feeling a sense of mourning, Emma dropped her gaze and saw a long, rectangular table covered in cobwebs. She approached the table and was happy to see that whoever had been steadily looting the place hadn’t gotten to the table yet. Slowly, she stretched her hand out and pealed a string of cobwebs away from a large, silver vase. She held it in her hands and polished it with her sleeve. As she squinted closer, she noticed tiny engravings of swans pressed into the precious metal.

A chill ran up her spine as she looked down at the delicate engravings. It was almost as if she had seen it before, she looked around the room quickly, _This place is like memories from a dream I had long ago_ , she thought as she brought her fingers to the vase, tracing circles around the swan. Reverently, she made her way down the table- slowly uncovering cups, plates, bowls, forks, knives, and other finely crafted cutlery all hailing the same engraving of a swan.

“This all seems so familiar,” she whispered out loud. Her voice broke the decades- old silence in the room, traveling around the air, bouncing off the walls. Somehow it didn’t seem foreign, though- something about this place seemed so familiar.

Her eyes lifted to the dozens of crystal chandeliers lining the ambulatory and felt something warm cover her heart as the chandeliers suddenly flashed to life, illuminating the room, and then as quickly as it came- reverted back to being covered in dust. Blinking repeatedly, she put the vase back where she found it and continued down the room.

Following the swirling pattern of the floor, she was lead to a grand staircase of faded white marble. Ascending the staircase she found an imprint in the rich blue carpet where three thrones were once seated. The thrones had been infamous in stories with their jewel and precious stone encrusted facades; they were no doubt the first objects to be taken from the palace. There was one large square indent in the center, another slightly smaller to its left, and a small square barely visible to the right. “That must have been for the Princess Emma,” thought the blonde, “She was lucky to have grown up in a place like this,” she mused as she glanced around the room.

Turning her body towards the grand staircase, Emma took in the full royal view of the room. The strangest feeling wracked through her body. She felt as though she were living someone else’s déjà vu.

“Marble floors,” she whispered, “silver swans… it all seems like a dream I may have had, but the memory of it glows as dim as an ember,” she whispered as her eyes scanned the space.

Closing her eyes, she imagined a grand ball being celebrated during the rule of the Whites. Silver storms of brilliant lit chandeliers illuminate the room, causing the gems encrusting the ceiling to sparkle like the heavens, the columns glittering as mounds upon mounds of food fill the empty silver platters and vases.

Guests arrive draped in folds of glistening fabrics, long silk white cloves coat their hands as they stroll across the room with strong brows and refined postures. Beneath the apse, the great royal orchestra begins to play a mystifying waltz pushing the elegant assemblage to dreamy movement. Emma opens her eyes to find herself swaying as she clutches her sides and slowly descends the staircase. Looking out over the room, she sees the entombed figures in the paintings push forward in a whirl of dust, shaking off the crust of the forgotten age and waltzing in brilliant spirals to the floor.

Emma sways with them as she hugs her sides and once again presses her eyes tightly closed as she imagines herself wrapped in beautiful folds of midnight blue, a silver circlet placed elegantly atop her golden curls. As she heard the dreamscape vibrations of the orchestra’s waltz, a hand reaches to her. A tall, sturdy man with soft features and golden hair takes her hand in his and bows low before wrapping her in a tight embrace to sway to the music.

His embrace is warm and protective, she can almost feel his breath moving softly across her head, she can almost see his kind eyes sparkle with pride… another person joins them. A small, brunette woman with strong eyes and an affection smile wraps one arm around Emma and the other around the man and together they sway to the music. Emma’s heart clutches as she feels the foreign sensation of being held safe and warm. Tears well in her eyes as she feels the loving hands of the people she dances with cling to her with unconditional affection, her heart pulled, tore, and longed for this. A heart full of love, receiving genuine pulses of eternal devotion… she yearned for those feelings, yearned to _remember_ if she had ever felt them.

Slowly, the embrace faded into ghosts of hands, gentle gazes passed into faded memory. Emma opened her eyes to see her arms wrapped around herself as she stood alone in the cinders, granules, and fragments of someone else’s nostalgia. Tears welled to her eyes as she remembered that she, well, couldn’t remember. _There’s definitely no way this was my past_ , she thought to herself, _but still… it’s nice to think about. Once upon a time…_

“HEY!” came a booming voice at the entrance of the ballroom. Emma’s stomach dropped as her heart leapt into her throat, by the doors to the hallway was a small brunette walking furiously towards her. Instinctually, the blonde found her bag and went to run back up the grand staircase to find an exit, but it was too late. As she reached the carpet-indents of the stolen thrones, a smooth hand gripped her wrist and spun her around.

“Who are you and what are you…” the brunette began before her eyes latched onto the face of the blonde before her. She was, no doubt, one of the most beautiful women Regina had ever seen, but what caught her attention was the half-scorched royal portrait just behind the blonde’s head.

It was a portrait of the last ruling White Family. Sitting in the center was Snow White as Queen and matriarch draped in rich garments, behind her was Prince Charming dressed in his finest- a hand resting on the back of his wife’s chair. To Snow’s right, tiny hands clutched the side of her chair- Regina followed them to the image of the ten-year old Princess Emma. Golden hair, emerald eyes… her gaze shifted back to the woman in her grasp and back to the painting.

At that moment, Sydney came running up the center of the room, skidding to a stop at the bottom of the grand staircase. Regina released Emma’s wrist slowly, when the blonde didn’t budge, she ran down the staircase to Sydney’s side.

“Sydney,” she whispered, “do you see what I see?”

“What do you mean do I…. oooooooh,” a long Cheshire cat grin stretched across his face.

Emma stood awkwardly at the top of the stairs watching the strange couple study her.

“Are, uh, are you Regina?” Emma said after a short cough. The brunette’s eyes snapped to attention.

“Yes, yes I am… and you are?”

“Anna,” she said simply, “Anna Swan. I heard you could help me with papers, I’m trying to get to the Midas Kingdom.”

Regina turned around and shot Sydney a look, he nodded knowingly- like a couple of vultures they ascended the staircase and began circling around the blonde.

“Where do you come from, _Anna_? Swan is not a common name here, in fact, I don’t know any family with the name, Swan,” questioned Sydney quickly pacing around her, his clutched fist resting under his jaw.

“That’s because I’m from the orphanage just outside of town, I don’t have any papers and…”

“What do you know of your family?” questioned Regina looking the blonde up and down.

“I was found when I was ten the night of revolution, but funny thing is I remember very little about my past,” said Emma nervously watching the couple swarm around her.

“And you need papers?” asked Regina.

“Yes, and I…” she let out a sigh, “look can you stop doing that? It’s pissing me off,” she said flatly causing Sydney and Regina to stop in their tracks, “I need to get to King Midas’ kingdom because I think my family might be there. I was told I could come to you for papers, so can you help me or not?”

Regina and Sydney glanced at each other.

“Well,” sighed Regina slipping her hands into her pockets, “I happen to be traveling to King Midas’ kingdom myself,” she mused as she whipped three tickets out of her coat and fanned them in front of Emma who tried, and failed, to snatch one. The brunette smirked and returned the tickets to her pocket, “I _would_ offer you this one, but there is just one, tiny little problem.”

“What is it? If it’s money, I’m sure I could figure something out.”

“No, no, dear… it’s not money. The third ticket is actually reserved for _her_ ,” said Regina pointing towards the portrait.

“Princess Emma?” questioned the blonde as he looked at the portrait.

“How keen of you, dear,” scoffed Regina, “Yes, Princess Emma.”

“We are going to reunite the lost princess with her mother Queen Snow,” chimed in Sydney, “Come to think of it, you do look quite a bit like her.”

“Charming’s eyes,” said Regina attempting to hide the snarl from her features.

“The noble jaw line of the White family,”

“Snow’s nose,” said Regina putting on the most realistic fake smile as she tried to not gag on her own words.

“Not to mention you want to go to King Midas’ kingdom, and the ruined White family _lives_ in the Midas Kingdom,” sang Sydney.

“Wait… wait….” said Emma putting her hands out, “Are you two saying that _I_ am Princess Emma?”

“Why not? Have you ever considered that a possibility?”

“I’ve seen hundreds of women and none of them look as close to Princess Emma as you do,” said Regina.

“Okay,” breathed the blonde, “You two are most definitely crazy. I’m out of here,” she began walking down the staircase to leave.

“Think about it, Miss Swan,” said Regina falling in step next to her as they reached the ballroom floor, “You don’t remember much about your past and you are the same age as the lost princess, and don’t you think it’s quite peculiar that you were found with no memory of your past the _same_ night the princess disappeared?”

“But you’re telling me that I’m some kind of royal,” said Emma, her brows knitted together in doubt.

“Think about it,” said Sydney moving to Emma’s other side, “you could be royal- and who _wouldn’t_ want to be a princess?” Emma stopped walking and stood silently thinking, one hand clutched tightly to the strap of her bag while the other fumbled around her swan necklace. Regina let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Well, Miss Swan…” she stated as she silently motioned for Sydney to follow her as she moved down the ballroom, “It’s a shame you don’t think that’s a possibility because this third and _final_ ticket belongs to the lost princess,” she shrugged her shoulders and turned around walking side-by-side with Sydney.

“What are you doing?” he whispered to the brunette, “she’s perfect we can’t just…” Regina shot him a stern look.

“Just wait for it,” she said as a smirk danced across her lips, “three… two…. one….”

“REGINA, WAIT!” called Emma from behind her. The brunette’s smirk reached her eyes as she glanced at Sydney whose mouth hung open half in shock, half in complete admiration.

Emma came running up the rest of the ballroom and stood before the brunette and her companion.

“I’m coming with you,” she said, “to Midas’ Kingdom.”

“Oh?” said Regina faking an innocent tone.

“I mean, as crazy as the idea of me being some long lost princess is, it wouldn’t hurt to, you know, make sure- right?”

“Of course,” said Regina through a large, brilliant smile that sent shockwaves down Emma’s body, “Besides if we get there and the ruined queen decides you’re not her precious daughter, it’s no loss to you and you’ll already be in King Midas’ kingdom, and if you _are_ Princess Emma, then you’ll be reunited with your family. So…”

“So there’s nothing to lose,” Emma finished for her as she nodded firmly, “Okay, I’m in.”

“Excellent choice!” cheered Sydney clapping Emma on the back as he started to usher her out of the room, filing out- in extreme detail- the itinerary of the expedition as Regina lagged behind.

The brunette looked after the blonde and her companion with a smile. At last, all of her plans are in motion. She reached into her pocket and fingered a tiny silver bracelet. The interior had the first names of the White family, including Emma’s, engraved while on the outside were the etchings of three, tiny swans. For years she had held on to this item, making promises to it, using it to rekindle the flame of ambition whenever it faltered. She pressed it to her lips before depositing it back in her pockets and followed the others out of the room, a wry and satisfied smile on her determined face.

……………

Perched on a small chandelier-lighter’s balcony in one of the more shadowy spots of the ballroom hunched a figure draped in black, a shiny silver hook fixed in place of his left hand. His eyes followed the three as they exited the ballroom.

“No,” he whispered to himself, “it can’t be,” he stood up, the light revealed a tall, young man with jet black hair and beard, his eyes the swirling color of the sea. The vial he wore on a leather string around his neck began to glow a putrid green. The man’s head tilted downwards as he lifted the vial up to his eyes with his hook.

“Impossible,” he whispered looking at the glowing liquid as it began to pulse and turn brighter and brighter, “this would mean,” he looked back down where the three had exited, “Princess Emma’s alive.”

A raging whirl of green smoke shot from the vial, encompassing the man as he tried to bat it away. Everything went dark as he felt his body leave the ground, his head felt like it was being pushed and pulled upwards, downwards, crossways, and every which way. His feet finally hit ground, the impact buckling his knees. He sat up on his knees and surveyed his surroundings: The room was small and dark, entirely comprised of different shades of grimy green stone. Deep shadows filled the corners as a swirling, murky green liquid sloshed around a large circular hole in the center of the room.

“So,” slithered a voice from the shadows, “Princess Emma is alive,” electrifying chills coursed up and down the black-clothed man’s body as a high pitched giggle rang around the small, stone room.


End file.
